The Three Old Souls
by See Through the Mist
Summary: "There was once, in a far away land, three powerful souls. Their names cannot be translated into our modern language, but, roughly, they meant 'Light', 'Hope', and 'Life'. " Soul!AU


This is my entry for an AU contest held by animedemon001 on dA.

LOL, she said be original; is this original enough? XD

(If anyone is confused: Hope took Romano, Light took Canada, and Life took Japan. They're my favorite characters at the moment~)

-RMS

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><p>There was once, in a far away land, three powerful souls. Their names cannot be translated into our modern language, but, roughly, they meant 'Light', 'Hope', and 'Life'. For years, they wandered and roamed the Earth, looking for a strong enough body to possess. No, they were not evil souls, no malice in them. They simply wanted to touch and to feel like they did before. What they looked like or did in their first life was never disclosed.<p>

However, they did get their happy endings.

One thousand years had passed and Hope came upon a young boy, sleeping in the grass of what it now known as Northern Italy. In nothing but a pair of shorts and faded shirt, he had an aura of sweetness and of hidden strength; of love and happiness. Hope admired these traits greatly, yet before Hope could take the boy's body as its own, they were stopped by an older man. With an appearance similar to the slumbering boy, he created a much different projection. Hate and sadness swirled in this man, yet a sense of love and protection was equally as strong.

In a language not yet Italian, the man spoke, "_You cannot take my brother, body-seeker. I have heard tales of you, of the people who died while you tried to take their bodies. I will not let you do the same to my younger brother._" Hope was flickering in and out of sight, and even the young man could tell that it was disagreeing. However, that did not stop the man. Straightening his shoulders, the man asked, "_Then, perhaps, my body?_" Hope was shocked. Someone, willing to give Hope their body? Unheard and unbelievable. Yet in that stubborn scowl and indented brow and fierce eyes was absolute sureness; that this man somehow knew he was strong enough to take this powerful soul and save his brother.

The man did not believe such at all. He was merely raised to protect his younger brothers, and protect them he shall. He knew he would most likely die, but the man was going to try anyway. He had an iron will- been told that all his life- so perhaps he could finally put it to good use.

So he did.

Placing his hand against the soul's (or what seemed to be a hand), the man felt a burning in his heart, tears in his eyes, and a deep pull at his gut. His ears rang and his mouth dried and his body felt as though it was engulfed in a great flame. Screaming, he fell to his knees, jerking in every direction as Hope tried to settle. Flames spewed from his mouth, smoke escaped his ears, even his tears had turned to tracks of lava that seared his cheeks as they slowly made their way down to his chin. His skin heated with the fire that now burned in his veins, turning a great red and making his green irises burn away to pure gold. Now hacking and coughing, he crawled to his knees- his bones feeling brittle and weak- and faced the ground, trying to focus on the green blades of grass.

Beside him, his brother continued to dream peacefully, serene to the agony his beloved elder brother was experiencing in his place; not even 10 feet from him. As the man's arms finally gave, Hope gave a content sigh. Because of what Hope was, their passion burned brighter than the sun: Their fire burned brightly, and so it was only fit for someone with no hope to live. Hope never understood until they finally settled into the man; that even if someone had a spark of hope, then to have so much passion at once could never be contained. However, someone with no hope would not be consumed as they would never run out of room for doubt to call back in. Hope didn't know how to feel about that.

The man was a different story, however. He felt weak, sick, and completely disorientated. His little brother better be happy that _he _didn't have to go through this shit. Feeling the racing of his heart calm and his tears finally stopping, he thought to the soul, "_Now what?_" The soul could really give no answer; Hope never thought to think ahead this far! So, in a matter of seconds, Hope responded back, "_We leave._" Knowing that there was no way he could stay, the man left; dead grass in the shape of footprints following him. Still, behind him, untouched, laid the boy. He never did find out what happened to his big brother.

After this confrontation, another one thousand years passed. This time, it was Light to have its happy ending.

It was snowing this day, and Light was floating through a small village. There was a festival of some kind happening, yet not one Light was familiar with. The streets were dark; yet inside each house, each pub, each lodging, Light saw small, flickering twinkles. Candles, perhaps? What the people were celebrating, Light did not know. However, they felt a strong pang resonate inside them; and if they were to have a physical body, they might have clutched at their chest. Yet Light forgot about its pain, for in the distance, two bodies hid.

Light made a way to the two, shivering bodies. Upon coming closer, Light realized it stumbled upon two males, barely older than boys, resting side-by-side. Kneeling down, Light took in each aura. The boy on the left was covered the most, in a blanket and coat. He, even while resting in this cold, had a strong sense of leadership and charisma. Turning to the other boy, he lacked in both coverage and aura. Only in a thin jacket, the other boy only had a small radiation of tenderness and loneliness. Light turned back to the first boy; he would do better for a host.

However, it seemed to not be fated that way.

Before Light could do anything, the second boy's eyes fluttered open, his eyelashes frosted white. Staring up at the translucent figure before him, he gave no look of shock or surprise. Just a mere slow blink. Light was stunned for a moment before reaching for the first boy once more, but the awakened boy beat Light to it. Covering the first boy with his body, the second made sure the other was warm enough for the night; even going so far as to give up his own pathetic attempt at heat. Looking back at Light, the boy coughed out roughly, "_I believe you to be a Reaper. Might as well make sure my brother will have at least another day._" In that moment, Light had its answer. Taking over the boy as its own, the boy's shivering grew worse: His hair bleached a pure white, his skin turning blue and silver, his eyes almost glowing like the Heaven's Lights. He would be angel-like in appearance if it wasn't for the splotches of black that stood out like bruises on his lips, his cheeks, his eyes.

His shuddering stopped for a minute or two, his last breath breathed out in nothing but a soft whisper. The boy's heartbeat stuttered to a halt, and there the boy died in a dirty alleyway. But, he did not stay dead for long. When Light finally gained a sturdy seating, the boy's heart started again; its beats gaining in speed. Soon enough the boy was literally shining as his skin turned back to a healthy pink and his hair returned to its original blond; if not a tad bit lighter. This boy with so little left to live for was more courageous than the first boy could ever hope to be: To give up your life to just give even a day to someone else was a price nearly no one was willing to pay.

So, just like with Hope one thousand years ago, the boy walked off; in nothing but a ratty old long-sleeved shirt, torn pants, and ruined boots. Just like one thousand years ago, a brother woke up and found his brother missing- and died without ever finding out why.

The last case of Life was an anomaly in of itself.

Ever since Life was discovered by others, they kept Life up high in the mountains. Year after year, the humans down in the valley would send up what they considered their bravest men, their strongest men, and sometimes as punishment, their criminals. Life soon found out why.

The stories and tales of the Three Old Souls were known everywhere: It is that knowledge the people in the valley took advantage of. Sending up their bravest and strongest men was, in a way, a ritual to them. Many did not come back down the mountain side, and the ones who did never spoke of their journey. But it was not because of Life. No, it was the actions of the men and the men only. Driven by greed and pride, most of the men that walked the sloped mountainside came to Life with one purpose only: Be the host of this dangerous creature. Only then would they truly be the greatest, the bravest, the strongest. However, the never expected to come across such a passive creature.

Life would never purposely take one of the men as a host, they knew just by a glance they'd die instantly by the men's own carelessness. So Life always waited for the men to try to provoke the soul into forcefully taking them over. It never worked. But soon enough they'd take a running leap at Life and when they came into contact, the men were practically dead anyway.

Ironically, it was the criminals that were the ones that came back down the mountain. While the warriors tried their best to show they were the most capable, the criminals didn't wish to be there at all; they were scared and never took a stance against Life. However, over time they did become accustomed to Life and started to be curious. The criminals asked many questions, and Life always answered honestly. Sadly, most of those honest answers was, "_I don't know._" (including the question of why Life was there in the first place). Unlike Life's old companions, Life learned from the warriors and the criminals and figured out a way to write in the air; and sometimes, even transfer answers to their minds.

It wasn't until 500 years after Hope found a host that Life also found one.

Strangely enough, it was neither a warrior nor a criminal that held the strength Life needed. He was a thin man, slim and averaged height. He looked exactly like the others before him, warrior and criminal alike, yet he was neither proud nor scared. He held himself honorably, with dignity and integrity. With slow steps, he did rush to Life like the warriors, but did not cower like the criminals. He seemed... curious. Bowing low, his knees on the ground and hands splayed before him, the man asked, "_Oh Old Soul, may I try to live again through you?_" Life did not understand... until they finally saw the mist of emotions that the man brought with him. Or, more accurately, the lack of emotion.

Life could not make out any nerves nor strength. It was as if this man had no will, but that was not the case. No, it wasn't he had no will... he had no reason to live. Speaking softly in the foreign tongue Life was accustomed to, the man spoke of not being one of the bravest or the strongest. Nor was he a wanted criminal sent here to die. He was merely a merchant that felt as if each day of his life was just like the last and without a drastic change, everything would continue unsatisfactorily. If he were to change his life, why not try the biggest of them all first?

Life could not believe the words pouring out of this bowing man's mouth. Why anyone would be willing to give up their life never made much sense to Life... but then again, what else could Life base such actions upon. All they knew of this change was the pride of the warriors and the desperation of the criminals. So, Life took the man up on his offer. In that cave, up high on the mountain top, Life took a host purposefully.

The man fell to his knees as his cries and his screams echoed throughout the valley, the brightness of Life filling him until it nearly flowed from the man's eyes and lips. Veins of gold soon replaced his veins of blood and shined brightly like tattoos that stretched across his body in a maze of lines. It was once Life finally calmed that the man's beam softened to but a soft glow and his throat no longer held gut-wrenching cries of pain. Just like the boy before him, the man from the valley left his home and wandered for 2500 years. For in 500, Light would finally gain their host. In another 1000, all three souls would meet again; and not just the souls, but the men will quickly become friends.

But it would be 1000 years more before the men would see the souls of their dear families, for even the merchant had younger brothers and sisters. The host of Hope never did get over the man his younger brother spent each lifetime with (he finally got over it once he realized that soulmates will always find each other); the host of Light was happy to see his brother warm and healthy; and the host of Life was simply content with his old family lives their lives in the extraordinary.

So away the Three Old Souls went, away to new lands and new cultures with new people and new problems. There was never a situation they couldn't handle.


End file.
